


Until Death

by Drosselmeyer



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22758808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drosselmeyer/pseuds/Drosselmeyer
Summary: Death is not always the end of a story. *Written for the SessKag Valentine's Big Bang.*
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/Sesshoumaru
Comments: 34
Kudos: 138
Collections: SessKag Angst - Massive Angst, Sesskag Valentine's Big Bang





	Until Death

**Author's Note:**

> One part is tame NSFW.

Life indulges in many cruelties, but none are so harsh as the discovery of her body on a common, well-traveled road.

The smell of rain from the night before still lingers in the air, and he stands there, head cocked to the side as his eyes lock on the macabre stare of her lifeless ones. Her pupils have all but swallowed the blue that was uniquely hers.

He says nothing, feels _nothing_. But then a strange numbness sinks in and spreads over his limbs like a slow-eating death.

He can’t breathe.

The blue. The blue is gone and his restraint with it as forever ends in the nonexistent blink of unseeing eyes.

He bends to lift her body.

He breaks when it’s cold in his arms.

_____________________________

_“Your hair.”_

_He turned just as small, feminine hands dove into the thick tresses, blunt fingernails massaging just behind his temples. Eyes threatening to close as a deep sense of relaxation came over him, Sesshoumaru leaned in to give her better access. “What about it?”_

_The cleverly kneading fingertips reached back further, giving the silver strands a wild shake. “It just falls back into place.” She pouted prettily in the firelight of the small hut she had refused to give up. “Mine doesn’t do that.”_

_“It must be a great shame.” He blinked slowly, the smallest of smiles pulling at his mouth as she scowled._

_Sticking her nose in the air, she closed her eyes and turned her face from him. “It is. My husband has prettier hair than I do. I’m the laughingstock of the village.”_

_Her attempt at seriousness failed when her lips twitched, one eye cracking open to gauge his reaction._

_“Is that why?” he asked, moving to their bedding. Once under the blanket, he slid an arm behind his head and closed his own eyes. “Shall this One pity you?”_

_She sighed dramatically and crawled in next to him. “I’m afraid you’ll have to.”_

_It was his turn to crack an eye open. “Is that so?”_

_Leaning up over him, she smiled, and it grew to something bright and beautiful when he finally caved and did the same._

_____________________________

Their home is both empty and stifling without her, but he doesn’t want to see anyone. Doesn’t want to face the sun and the false liveliness and cheer brought down by warm, golden beams.

Sitting in the dark, he stares at a wall, refusing to look at the bed they shared. He hasn’t slept in days, but the soft linens hold vigil over their melded scents while she is cold in the ground, and he can’t— _won’t_ —face the unkindness those memories will bring.

Jaw tightening, he manages to swallow. To be wrapped in what’s left of her, knowing that he’ll never hold her again…

His eyes set on the sword his father left him and darken. What use is the sword of compassion if constrained by time?

Something stabs at his chest.

What use is he if he is too late?

Closing his eyes as unbidden, icy tears slip out, he curses himself.

_____________________________

_“Let’s not get up.”_

_He turned on his side to look at her, propping himself up on his elbow. “You wish to remain in bed all day?”_

_Her answering grin was almost puckish. Reaching for his hand, she twined her fingers through his and pulled the blanket up higher over her chest. “That is exactly what I want.”_

_“Hn.” He smiled, sleep not yet quite gone from his eyes. The action came more easily to him now that years of unrest and war lay behind them. And there was something about her that had succeeded in warming even his aloof, bitter nature. Closing his fingers over hers, he tugged her closer and lowered his face, allowing his lips to barely graze hers. “Whatever shall we do?”_

_She smiled, and it whispered against his mouth. “Pretend like we’re in love.”_

_He arched a brow and pulled back. “Pretend?”_

_Laughing, she grabbed his face and closed the distance between them._

_____________________________

When he finally sleeps, her voice echoes in his dreams.

He doesn’t rest. Not really. The scent of her is wrapped around him, torturing him as he seeks solace from the unkindness that consciousness brings. Tossing and turning, the blanket they once shared tangles around him, trapping his limbs as the memory of her touch and breath traps his soul.

The vivid picture of her smiling face breaks him a little more, stabbing him with bittersweet needles of nostalgia.

The image of soft, smooth skin, ashen and bloodless instead of pink, tears his heart in two.

With a panicked shout, he jolts awake, shooting upright in bed. It’s dark. Silent. It takes a moment to fully come to, and his eyes dart around their home, anxiety washing over him as he realizes it was a dream but one that spoke of both the past and the cruel present.

He looks to his left, and she isn’t there.

Despairingly, _hopelessly,_ he falls back onto the bedding, casting the blanket aside as the cold fingers of night air prick at the sweat on his skin and chill him to the bone.

His hands cover his face, and he yells until his throat bleeds.

_____________________________

_A sigh reached his ears, her head tipping back to rest against him as the soft, black strands of her hair tickled underneath his chin._

_“I’ll never get tired of hot springs.”_

_Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he hid his smile there and tightened his arms around her underneath the water. “You are happy?”_

_“What kind of question is that?” She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms over his as she snuggled back against him. “Of course I’m happy.” Fingers danced over the back of his hands before lacing through, and sleep crept into her voice. “I’m the luckiest girl alive.”_

_She drifted off then, and he let her, content to hold her in the warmth of the water while she slept._

_Luck. He didn’t believe in such things, but if he did, he would have told her she was wrong._

_Shifting her in his lap, he settled more deeply into the water and let his chin rest atop her head, closing his own eyes. The sweet, bright, summertime scent of her washed over him, saturating his senses and soothing his spirit._

_No, he was the lucky one._

_____________________________

Despite the fact that the sun hangs high in the sky, it’s dark inside of the small hut when the rustle of the door covering rouses him from fitful sleep. His eyes open, but he doesn’t move, opting to stare blankly at the far wall from his refuge in their bed.

He doesn’t move when a small lantern is lit to bring some light into the room.

Quiet footfalls creep across the floor, and the scent of honey and nectar fills his nostrils as a soft weight settles on top of the blanket behind him.

He doesn’t move when thin, deceptively strong arms settle around him and a small chin comes to rest over his shoulder. Instead, for once, he abandons his strength and allows the pain to swallow him in the presence of another.

There’s a sniffle, and he can smell the salt of tears before those thin arms squeeze him tighter.

“Lord Sesshoumaru, I’m here.” She squeezes again when his hand cautiously, hesitantly covers hers and whispers, “I’m here.”

_____________________________

_He knew something was wrong the moment she came running over the hill with Rin balanced on her hip, searching for him._

_They didn’t usually seek him out. And, if not for the scent of tears and sound of the little girl’s cries, that she had would have alone been enough to tell him something was wrong._

_Never mind that she was yelling his name._

_“Sesshoumaru! Sesshoumaru, Rin!”_

_Her impudence ignored for the sake of the squalling child, he rose quickly, leaping from his resting place to land in front of them before the woman wore herself out._

_“Sessh—AAAH!” Daring to glare at him, she transferred Rin from her arms to his. “Warn me next time.”_

_He arched a brow but said nothing as he sank to the ground with the wailing child. “You will tell this One what happened.”_

_“I would tell you without you ordering me too,” she snapped, dropping beside them._

_He snarled at her defiance. “You—”_

_She dared to mimic him then, arching her own eyebrow as he had done. “Me?”_

_Blue fire met blazing gold for one crowded moment before they both let the growing hostility go to see to Rin. He took a deep breath, preparing to ask what had happened again, when she beat him to it._

_“She and Shippou were playing on a fallen log, and she tripped and fell.” The miko twisted her fingers in her hand, obviously concerned. “Rin managed to catch herself on the wood before she fell off, but she may have sprained her wrist. And I think she has a splinter in her hand, but she won’t let me look at it.”_

_He didn’t acknowledge her and focused his attention on Rin. The child’s cries had dulled to sniffles now that she was with him, but when he prodded at the hand she held clutched protectively to her chest, they started anew._

_“Lord S-Sesshoumaru,” Rin sniffled, trying to turn away in his lap, “don’t touch.”_

_Making soft, hushing sounds, he ignored the miko’s shock as he coaxed Rin to showing him her hand. “Rin, look at Kagome.”_

_The girl did as she was told, and he gently flexed her wrist and rotated it, feeling her flinch as he did. He frowned. It was tender, but it wasn’t broken. Carefully flipping her hand over, he saw the sizeable splinter embedded in her palm._

_Rin whimpered, daring to look back for a second before quickly turning away. “It hurts.”_

_Before he could respond, the miko reached out and grasped Rin’s good hand, smiling kindly. “Hey, I know that’s not comfortable. But you know what? I bet Sesshoumaru can get that out really quick.”_

_Her eyes slid to his briefly and then looked down at Rin’s hand, silently communicating with him. Her attention turned back to the still sniffling child. “You won’t even feel it.”_

_He almost smirked. Rin was hanging onto her every word. Pinching his claws around the tip of the wood sliver, he slid it out before she noticed._

_The miko’s lips twitched. “Sound good?”_

_Rin inhaled a shuddering breath and tried to put on a brave face. “Okay.” She turned back around to him. “Okay, Lord Sesshoumaru. You can do it.”_

_His eyes softened at her attempt at bravery, and he held up the removed splinter. “It is already out.”_

_“What!”_

_Her amazed expression melted even his resolve, and a small smile spread over his lips._

_The miko laughed. “If you all aren’t leaving right now, why don’t you go find Shippou? I’m sure he’s worried about you, and I can wrap that wrist for you.”_

_Throwing pleading eyes his direction, Rin cheered when he nodded his consent and then raced away._

_“I’ll be right there!” she called after her. She waited until the girl was out of sight, and then she turned to him, eyes narrowed._

_He narrowed his own right back and was ready to bite out a derogatory comment about humans in general—mikos in particular—when she suddenly smiled._

_It caught him off guard._

_“What?” he snapped. Her mercurial shift in temper was unnerving._

_Her grin just grew bigger. “You said my name.”_

_____________________________

Rin lays with him for half a day.

When he sleeps, she sleeps. When he wakes, his grief and memories threatening to bury him under their weight, she strokes his hair and whispers words that once comforted her as a child. When he tenses up, fighting with every ounce of his being to keep the emotion threatening to spill out locked in his body, she cries for him.

When night falls, she pulls on his shoulder until he rolls over and looks at her.

“We’re getting up now,” she whispers, not looking away.

Something in his gut twists. Her eyes, so much older than when he first took her in, are red with the tears he wouldn’t cry. And he wants to do this for her. Wants to show her that he can get up. That he is still as strong as she remembers. But it feels like there’s an anvil on his chest, and the slight woman before him isn’t capable of moving it.

Or so he thinks.

Soft, doe-like brown eyes harden, dark brows knitting together as her lips press in a firm line. Without another word, Rin rips the blanket off him.

For the first time in _years_ , he glares at the girl.

She glares right back. “Lord Sesshoumaru, get your _ass_ out of bed.”

He should be more shocked than he is, but she’s always been a bit stubborn. When he mulishly refuses to move, irritation and anger now clouding out the grief, she hooks her arms under his and pulls and lifts until he finally gives in and stands.

As quickly as it came, her anger melts away, and she throws her arms around him, trying to crush him to her to the best of her ability. He bends, returning her embrace, and he remembers for a moment what it was like to hold her as a child.

“She wouldn’t want this for you,” Rin murmurs, squeezing him tighter. Something lodges in his throat, but he swallows it down, merely nodding his head as he tightens his hold on her.

He isn’t sure how long they stand there, but when the moon finally rises, she pushes back, nose wrinkled as she looks up at his face. “You need a bath.”

He sighs.

She’s not wrong.

_____________________________

_“Why are you here, Miko?”_

_The girl’s features flashed with irritation as she looked up at him, shifting her large pack on her shoulder. “No need to be rude. We’re headed the same direction. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as we reach the well.”_

_He snorted, keeping his eyes straight ahead where Jaken led Rin on A-Un. “This One thinks perhaps that your well is still too far.”_

_The insult hit its mark. He could feel her bristle beside him, her aura crackling with her anger as she opened her mouth to bite back at him, closed it, opened it again, and then finally sighed._

_“Inarticulate as well. How dull.”_

_The yellow monstrosity on her back fell on his foot. Or rather, she dropped it there—on purpose._

_Sesshoumaru saw red and whirled on his uninvited travelling companion. “You dare—”_

_“Shut up and listen, you pretentious, vain, overbearing, on-an-ego-trip dog!” She stood, fists thrust down at her sides, and glared at him. “I don’t know what your deal is or who spit in your tea this morning, but all I did was try to be polite and walk a few feet from you!”_

_His eyes widened before he could stop the reaction as her own furious ones filled with tears._

_She reached down, grabbing her pack again, and started to walk off. “You can’t even let anyone be nice to you without glaring at them like you wished them dead. What the hell is your problem?”_

_For a short moment, he stared at her back, her boldness to reprimand him not quite something he knew how to respond to. No one had dared speak to him like that in centuries, and this human woman had both attacked his person and affronted him with her mouth._

_A second and one short leap later, he caught up to her by the well, grabbing her by the arm and jerking her around until she stood in front of him. Leaning down in her face, he bared his teeth and snarled. “Filthy human! You will not—”_

_“Oh for the love of the kami”—she reached down, ripped Tenseiga from its sheath, and flung the sword across the meadow—“FETCH!”_

_His father’s heirloom landed with a thud against the grass, and in his disbelief at what he had just witnessed, he dropped her arm._

_“Close your mouth,” she snapped. “You’ll catch flies.”_

_But—before he could even recover from his shock—she tipped herself back over the edge of the well and disappeared._

_He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at Tenseiga and wondering what exactly had happened._

_____________________________

Rin stares at the road, unnaturally quiet, and reaches for his hand. “You found her here?”

Sesshoumaru nods, his voice stuck in his throat as he allows his fingers to wrap around her smaller ones. He can still see her there, broken and lifeless in the dirt—a mere afterthought that no one passing by thought to consider.

He clenches his teeth, careful not to reflexively crush the hand clasped in his. It hurts. The thought of her ignored and overlooked—disregarded—by those who came across her clamps his heart in a vise and makes it difficult to breathe. And he knows there had been other that passed by. His memory is still filled with the scent of humans that littered the area around where she had fallen, their care to sidestep and avoid her body incapable of being missed by his nose.

“Hey.” Rin’s arm loops through his, and she presses closer until he gives in and wraps his arm around her. “Let’s head back.”

Weary in a way he hasn’t felt for centuries, he merely nods, allowing her to lead him back in the direction of a home he dreads returning too.

Rin’s arm tightens around his waist as she tries to comfort and reassure. “Tenseiga…was there nothing it could do?”

“No.” His voice sounds dead even to his own ears. “I found her too late.”

“Oh.” The woman he calls his child breaks then, her own fortitude only able to take so much. At the sight of her, the little strength he has left begins to crumble, and he sweeps her up in his arms to carry her back before she can see him start to crack.

“I—I’m s-sorry,” Rin sobs. “I r-really loved Kag-gome.” She sniffles hard, and—so much like when she was little—he watches her rub at her eyes with her fists, trying to get rid of her tears.

It breaks his resolve. To his own fascination and horror, his vision blurs, and he nearly bites through his lip to stop the grief that wants to surface. He tries to swallow and can’t, and his arms tense around her.

_No, I will not._

But she notices. Rin always notices.

Her own tearful face looks at his, eyes widened with shock, and he tries to close his. But it’s too late. It’s not something she’ll let go. Her arms wrap around his neck, and she clings tightly.

“Lord Sesshoumaru—Papa,” she whispers, “let it out. _Please._ ”

Before he knows what’s happening, his knees strike the ground, and it’s him clinging to her as wave after wave of grief silently racks his body. It’s overpowering and miserable, and he hates this weakness that he can no longer quash. But for the first time since it happened, he’s not alone, and there is a strange sort of solace in that—in a burden shared.

He doesn’t miss the salty scent of her tears mingling with his.

“I’m sorry.” Rin places a small hand on the back of his head and tucks her chin around the back of his neck, holding him as tightly as she can. “I’m so, so sorry.”

She mumbles a string of disjointed thoughts while he tries to regain his control. It’s almost amusing—this woman who he will always see as a child trying to comfort him with angry words of actions far too dangerous for her to think of attempting. But as he holds her and she holds him, he appreciates her loyalty.

“It’s not fair! This shouldn’t…

“I’m going to find those men. I swear, Lord Sesshoumaru, I will find…”

“You’ll always have…”

“Stupid Tenseiga! Why…

“She loved you. She would want you to…”

And so on and so forth until she finally says something that makes him stop and raise his head to look at her, stunned.

“I’ll never understand why your father didn’t leave the Meidou Stone with you.”

_____________________________

_She didn’t see him as she climbed over the edge of the well._

_Sesshoumaru watched from the trees as she shouldered her unwieldy pack and started in the direction of the village. The rapidly fading sunlight reflected off the yellow tint of the bag shading it an even more garish color. Appalling, truly. But despite the foul choice of accessory, he watched with carefully concealed curiosity as she stumbled underneath the weight of it and wondered at how she managed to climb up from the depths of the well to begin with._

_And it was a wonder. Before she had made it through the clearing, she dropped the thing to the ground and stretched out her muscles, the ache in her lower back apparent even from where he stood._

_“Struggling, Miko?”_

_Surprised, she whirled around with wide eyes as he came into the clearing, slowly approaching her. “I don’t feel like arguing with you or dealing with your attitude right now.”_

_He arched a brow, choosing to ignore her insolence. “Should I assume you think I wish to suffer yours?”_

_Her nose lifted ever-so-slightly. “Assume away, your highness.” Dropping her hands to her side, she looked around the meadow and ignored the daggers he glared her direction. “Where’s Inuyasha?”_

_“This One is not the hanyou’s keeper.”_

_“Never said you were. It was just a question.” Looking around the clearing again, she seemed a bit crestfallen when she realized her typical help really wasn’t anywhere near. “Great.” With a stubborn roll of her shoulders, she sighed and bent to lift her burden once again._

_Before he realized what he was doing, Sesshoumaru plucked the strap from her hand. He couldn’t say why he did it; in truth, he was just as shocked as she was. But he didn’t divulge that, instead sneering down at her. “Foolish woman.”_

_She rolled her eyes but didn’t try to reclaim the bag. “We both know you know my name.”_

_“Hn. Is that so?” Not waiting for her, he started in the direction of the village._

_“Wait.”_

_Stopping, he looked back over his shoulder, noting silently that her countenance had changed. She looked…tired. Worn._

_Something akin to guilt stabbed at his chest, but he pushed it back and looked down his nose at her. “What is it, Miko?”_

_All previous bravado disappeared, and she walked up to join him. “Why do we always have to bite at each other? Aren’t you sick of it too?”_

_There it was—an olive branch. And all he had to do was take it._

_“We’re not enemies anymore,” she said quietly, matching him step for step. “Not really.”_

_His eyes slanted down at her. “Are we not?”_

_She stared straight ahead and didn’t look at him, but her tone and face were resolute. “No.” The expression softened as they continued walking. “It’s not impossible to be friends, you know. I’m friends with other youkai.”_

_A bitter, humorless laugh escaped before he could control it. “You presume much.”_

_She stepped in front of him, blocking his path._

_He narrowed his eyes. “Move.”_

_“No.” Her face looked angrily up at his, her jaw stubbornly set as she stared him down. “You haven’t even tried to get to know me. How could you begin to guess at what I’m thinking?”_

_“You are clearly not,” he said, stepping around her._

_She reached out, her hand wrapping around his wrist to stop him again. “Let me show you something.”_

_“No.”_

_Her jaw set again. “One thing, one time, Sesshoumaru. If you want me to leave you alone after that, I will.”_

_He looked down at her, not bothering at all to hide his exasperation at her persistent nagging. “Fine.”_

_The stubbornness melted from her face a soft smile replacing her previous mulish expression. “Thank you.” She gave his wrist a slight tug. “This way.”_

_“Holding my hand is not required.”_

_“That’s your wrist.” She rolled her eyes and then flashed a saucy grin at him. “You’re going to have to be a whole lot nicer if you want me to hold your hand.”_

_He snorted, his derision evident._

_“Come on.”_

_She led him through the woods north of the village until they came to a bluff. It looked out over the river and set them high enough over the tree line for an uninhibited view of the sky, vibrant shades of orange and pink burning on the horizon line while streaks of purple highlighted the edges of the clouds._

_Beside him, the miko smiled and spread out her arms. “There!”_

_“This One is well-familiar with sunsets,” he said flatly._

_“Sure, but you never knew I liked them before. Now you do.”_

_The miko had lost her mind. Dropping his mask, Sesshoumaru looked at her incredulously while she smiled up at him like she had just disclosed the world’s greatest secret. “And why was it required that I know this about you? That I see it here with you?”_

_“Before when I said we could be friends, you scoffed at me.” She dropped to the soft grass, looking out over the bluff’s edge. “Without knowing anything about me.” A sad, wistful smile spread over her lips. “At least now if you decide being friends is not worth your time, you have something to base that decision on.”_

_Sighing his annoyance, he dropped her pack to the ground and lowered himself beside her. “And a sunset is what I should base my opinion of you on?”_

_She looked over at him again, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Sunsets themselves, no. But maybe my thoughts on them.” Drawing her knees up to her chest, she rested her chin on them as she hugged them to her. “I like sunsets. Love them. When everything is crazy—when it’s all hard—they’re something I can come back to and find a moment of peace. Gather my thoughts.”_

_“It is just the end of the day.”_

_The melodic, bird-like notes of her laughter drifted on the evening air. “You’re looking at it with the wrong eyes. It’s not an end.” Her smile softened. “It’s making way for the new day.” Her voice quieted as she looked at him. “A new beginning.”_

_Sesshoumaru said nothing as he looked at her face, witnessed the hope peeking behind startling blue depths. She was a strange woman—of that there was no doubt. A miko outside of her time, she didn’t fit anywhere really except with her motley group of friends. Her ideas, expressions, and the boldness of her temper set her aside from most of the human women he typically came across, and her unique acceptance of youkai made her an anomaly indeed._

_But, it turned out, she was not as unpleasant as he had believed her to be._

_“So, you are a poet now, Kagome?” he mused out loud, finally turning his attention back to the view._

_Beside him she exhaled softly, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “You can’t tell me you don’t know my name again.”_

_“I never said I did not.”_

_She laughed again. “No, I guess you didn’t.” A pink tongue darted out to wet her lips. “How about you? Is there something you enjoy or find yourself in the habit of when you need a moment?”_

_It was a personal question and not one he was accustomed to indulging. So, he really didn’t know why he chose to do so then._

_“Walking,” he murmured, not looking at her. “When I need a moment of peace, I prefer to walk under the light of the moon when it is cool and quiet.”_

_“Mmm, that would be nice.”_

_He expected things to be uncomfortable after his admission, but they were not. There was a distinct lack of self-consciousness or awkwardness between them as they sat in silence watching the burning red disk of the sun dip lower and lower below the treetops._

_As the bright oranges and pinks transformed into the muted blues and periwinkle of dusk, Sesshoumaru stood, once again shouldering her pack. “It will be dark soon.” He extended his hand to help her up. “You should return to the village.”_

_If Kagome was surprised at his offer of help, she hid it well. “Thank you.” She slid her hand into his and let him pull her up. Dusting her hands off on her pants, she suddenly pinked, insecurity spiking her scent. “There’s a full moon tonight.”_

_He cocked his head to the side. “Your point is?”_

_“I could walk with you.” She shrugged, offering him a smile. “If you want.”_

_____________________________

“Do not ask for what I cannot give, Son.”

Sesshoumaru sips the steaming tea in his hands, hardly sparing a thought for the reprimand that contrasts so sharply against the glittering mischief in the shrewd, yellow eyes. She’s not unkind. In truth, she never has been. But she speaks her mind, and even now he should expect nothing less.

Carefully, the tip of his tongue slips out to moisten dry lips as he sets his tea aside. “Cannot or will not?”

“Both.”

“Hn. Shall I take it by force then, Mother?”

The sound of his voice is abrasive, rasping. He can barely recognize it himself and hasn’t been able to for days. The normally smooth, deep baritone has been marred by the crushing grief only indulged in private, but it has torn at his throat without mercy and left the evidence of its presence in its wake. If his mother notices—and he knows she does—she doesn’t comment on it.

She does sigh, however, but her exasperation is half-hearted at best. Sipping at her own tea, she eyes him carefully. “Did you not expect to face this one day having chosen a human mate? Did you expect that I would not be aware that one day you would sit before me and ask of me what you have now?”

His eyes are dull and his chuckle humorless as he lifts his cup again. “I would more expect your meddling. Perhaps a condemnation of my choices.”

“Hmmm.” Red lips curve into a sad smile as she watches him. “Then, dear son, consider this my meddling.” The reprimand in her eyes gentles. “However, I fear I must forego the condemnation you have anticipated.”

He doesn’t look at her face but refills her tea. “And what have I done to merit this rare mercy?”

Her answer is unexpected, but it rolls off her tongue in the whisper of a mother who is grieved for her child.

“You have broken.”

The tea kettle slips from his hands and falls to the floor, shattering into a mocking parody of his own fragile state. And he freezes. Something about the shattered pot is too poignant and too much for him, and he stares, eyes fixed wider than normal for longer than he would like.

“Sesshoumaru—”

“Hn.” His mother’s uncanny stare sets on him from the other side of the table as she waits for his reaction. But he refuses to give more than he already has and sets to picking up the shards of glass.

“Are you angry, Son?”

His eyes, a shade darker than hers, snap up then, cold fury behind the deceptively warm color. “My mate is dead—killed on the road and tossed aside like a scrap. And you deny the remedy to that wrong.” He crushes the shards in his hand, allowing them to disintegrate under his poisonous claws. “Yes, I am angry.”

“Grief is not an excuse to abuse power, Sesshoumaru. Even when we are desperate.” She stills his hands and cups his cheek. “I have always given you whatever was within my power to grant you. This is the one thing that I regrettably cannot.”

He closes his eyes, brows knit as he wars with himself for reacting rashly. He wants to yell, throw the remainder of the teapot and shatter everything capable of breaking that’s within his reach. He wants to turn his face and nip his mother’s hand like an insolent pup and insist that she’s wrong. That she’s hurting him.

But he doesn’t.

“Sesshoumaru,” she says gently, her thumb brushing over his markings, “this is not something you must face alone.”

Clenching his eyes tightly, he turns his face into her hand then, pressing his nose to her palm. But instead of biting, he seeks her scent, and he remembers a time centuries past when it was enough to soothe everything wrong.

_____________________________

_They walked. Every day, they walked together in comfortable companionship and slowly came to know each other better. They came to understand one another._

_Under the moonlight, Kagome barely took a breath between words, and Sesshoumaru wondered why he continued in her company._

_When they watched sunsets, he ambled next to her in peaceful silence, and she struggled with his aloof demeanor._

_In the mornings, she tried to get him to share her tea, and he refused until they walked together again in the middle of the day, accepting a sip only after the sun lay high in the sky._

_Every time the rain fell, her playful side came out, and she splashed water at him from puddles while he pretended to be angry when she managed to get his face._

_As it snowed, he allowed her closer for warmth, and she slipped her pinky finger through his. They were both surprised when he let her._

_And when spring came again, they went back to the bluff, overlooking another brilliant end to another brilliant day._

_But even with their newfound friendship, it was unexpected when she dropped into his lap while they sat against the sturdy trunk of a tree, watching the sun go down._

_“Comfortable, are we?” Sesshoumaru asked, arching a brow. But, despite her boldness, a barely-there smile played on his lips._

_“Oh, quite.” Kagome smiled up at him and stretched her legs over the side of his._

_His almost nonexistent smile broadened into something vivid and real. “And what is it about this One that made you think of a chair?”_

_That melodic laughter he had come to find charming echoed in his ears. She really was quite pretty, though he didn’t allow himself to dwell on that fact often. But right then, he indulged. It was hard not to. Wisps of her hair shown pink in the dying light as sapphire eyes sparkled up at him, and her soft, pert mouth held a secret that she wasn’t quite yet ready to divulge. It tugged right there at the left corner of her lips, mocking him and teasing his normally composed sensibilities._

_It unforgivingly piqued his curiosity._

_“What is it you are withholding, Kagome?”_

_She sighed dramatically. “Only what you have not figured out yet that I have.”_

_“Oh? And what is that?” He forced himself not to laugh at her obvious theatrics_

_Her smile was back in a flash. “You really don’t know?”_

_“I assure you that I do not.”_

_“Ah, must be a male thing.” She looked down, pretending to smooth her hakama. “Pity though. It’s pretty significant.”_

_His natural inquisitiveness began to burn at the back of his mind. “And why is that?”_

_“Because this is where everything changes.” She looked up at him from underneath her lashes, her secret still playing at the corner of her mouth._

_He narrowed his eyes, but there was no malice in the action. “Out with it, Miko.”_

_Kagome laughed. “Silly.” Tilting her chin up, she sought his gaze. “This is where you kiss me.”_

_Sesshoumaru’s eyes widened a fraction. “Kiss you?”_

_She nodded, the action firm and resolute. “Yes. You kiss me.” That secret slipped from the corner of her lips then, and her smile lit her whole face. “And it really is quite romantic.”_

_He snorted and looked away._

_“Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one sitting with a woman in your lap under a pink and purple sky.”_

_“And how did this woman end up in my lap?” He slanted his eyes back at her._

_Kagome threw him a cheeky grin. “She knew it was time for her kiss and decided to make it easy for you.” Her look turned semi-serious. “And really, it’s going to be easy for you. She won’t resist.”_

_He tried not to smile. Really, he did. But he failed miserably, a quiet chuckle escaping as well. “You are unusual for a human—quite strange for a miko.”_

_Her smile turned soft, and she tilted her chin more. “I know. I fell in love with a youkai.”_

_Sesshoumaru cocked his head then, contemplating her peaceful, sweet expression as she looked up at him, the truth of what she said reflected in her eyes._

_“Miko,” he sighed, exasperated._

_She was right. This was where he kissed her._

_____________________________

He misses her touch.

It’s hardest at night. His bed is lonely. Even in this bed that she has never shared with him, her absence swallows him whole. He reaches out, his hand smoothing reverently over the place next to him—her place.

“You should be here,” he whispers, but the silence that is his response says more than any physical answer could have. Eyes clenching shut as the memory of her presence plagues him, Sesshoumaru turns to his other side so he isn’t tormented by the empty space on her side of the bed.

The darkness of his childhood room isn’t enough to block out the pain of this truth. It should have been a comfort—should have brought peace. But no matter where he goes or how far he travels, she is still gone and still dead, and any hope he had of fixing that is outside of his reach.

Rolling to his back, he covers his eyes with his arm and laughs bitterly, not stopping the cold tears that fall. He has fallen as low as the whispers floating down the halls of his mother’s home claim. Without her he is lost, and even the great strength that is revered and envied by many is sapped from his bones as he grieves for his lost mate.

Her touch—he’s starved for her touch.

Closing his eyes, Sesshoumaru tries to remember the feel of her arms sliding around his shoulders as she snuggled against him in bed. How her hair felt between his fingers as he combed through it while she slept against his chest to the sound of his heartbeat. Swallowing thickly, he tries to remember the soft touch of her lips against his and how she tasted when he took her in his arms and kissed her. Made love to her.

The sharp knife of reality twists in his gut when he realizes these things have already started to fade.

And it’s too much. He curses and bolts upright, raging his anguish in a tongue unnatural to his current form just as the shouji to his room slides open.

She doesn’t give him a choice or a chance to resist. In a matter of seconds, an abrupt blaze of youki flares the unlit lanterns to life, and his mother is beside him, pulling him into her arms as if he were no more than a stubborn pup.

“You _will not_ do this alone,” she says fiercely. And despite the fact that he has outgrown her, that he is no longer a small child, she drags him half into her lap and braces him against her shoulder, rocking his taller form reflexively as she had when he was young.

Sesshoumaru growls. “This One is not a pup.” But even as he speaks, the sound chokes, and he doesn’t resist her.

Soft hushing sounds respond to his ire, and he feels his mother’s claws combing through his hair. “You are always my pup, Stubborn One.”

He tries to swallow and can’t. Under her words and the quiet reassurance of their familial bond, the obstinate perseverance of his willfulness shatters. Before he can reconsider, Sesshoumaru presses his face into the soft silk of her sleeping robes and releases a shuddering breath.

Rosewater. It’s been centuries, but she still smells like rosewater.

The scent nearly undoes him. He wants to break. Wants to unleash his grief against her without restraint and weep as he hasn’t since he was small. Wants to indulge in his agony despite the utter humiliation it would bring.

But he doesn’t.

His mother’s arms wrap him fully and pull him closer. “Why do you fight against yourself, Son?”

Sesshoumaru shakes his head, refusing to raise his face, and remains silent.

She closes her eyes and holds him tighter. “Do not lose yourself to this.”

When there is no immediate response, cold dread sinks into the pit of her stomach. Not even a muscle twitches to show he has heard her, and she straightens, pushing back on his shoulders to see his face. She remembers this—this penetrating, all-consuming desolation. It is oppressive and dangerous, and she can feel it already sinking its claws into him.

Sesshoumaru raises his face and stares through her. “I cannot lose what is already lost.”

_____________________________

_“Are you happy?”_

_Her words were punctuated by breathless gasps as she rose and fell back onto him, the sweat on her skin glistening in the firelight._

_From underneath her, Sesshoumaru looked up through hooded eyes and arched a brow. “You want to discuss this now?”_

_Kagome rolled her hips, grinning as his eyes sank shut again. “Why not?”_

_“Miko”—his hands settled on the curve of her waist, stroking the soft skin there in time with her rhythm—"we are otherwise engaged.”_

_She laughed, twisting and curving a figure eight pattern into her movement. “We can make love and talk.” When his brows knit and jaw slackened against the sensation she caused, her laughing eyes softened. “Well, I can.”_

_Sesshoumaru cracked an eye open, an amused smile on his lips. “Is that so?” Without warning, he sat up._

_Not prepared for the sudden movement, Kagome squealed, nearly set off balance. But before she could lose her purchase, his hands sank to her hips, keeping her in place. Gently, carefully, he thrust upward, focused on they way her playful smile faltered as he did._

_He smirked. “You were saying?”_

_“Oh, shut up.” Shifting forward, Kagome looped her arms around his neck, pulling closer until her chest pressed against his. “And don’t stop.” He lifted into her again, and her breath caught before transforming into a moan. “Please, don’t stop.”_

_He didn’t._

_In the little hut she still refused to abandon, he made love to her, holding her so impossibly close that he could scarcely tell where he ended and she began. And she loved him back. Physically, emotionally, spiritually—she clung to him, her head bent around his with her dark, damp tresses plastered to their skin as they moved together as one with only the glowing coals of their hearth lighting their home._

_“I love you,” she murmured, tipping her head back as his lips found her throat. A small, mewling sound escaped when he latched on and began to suck, but then she sighed and tightened her hold around his shoulders. “So much.”_

_Simple, brief words he had heard spill from her lips time and time again. Simple but cherished. Unable to stop the smile that flashed across his lips, Sesshoumaru took her face in his hands and kissed her mouth, tasting the truth of her profession as it spilled over him again while she kissed him back._

_He touched his forehead to hers. “You asked if I am happy.”_

_“Mmm, I did.” Kagome smiled and rubbed her nose against his as she moved on him. “Are you going to answer me now?”_

_Sesshoumaru smiled. Angling his face, he touched his lips to hers one more time and then stilled her hips to slowly lay her back on their bed. “Mate”—his eyes closed, and he nuzzled her cheek as he took up her rhythm—“how could I not be?”_

_____________________________

In the early morning hours before dawn, he slips silently down the halls.

It’s cool and dark. The stars still twinkle above as he makes his way through the gardens and toward the open throne room that will lead him to the clouds. Every footfall he takes is no more than a whisper as he creeps across the grounds, and each step brings him closer to what he knows he must do.

“You are a foolish pup.”

Sesshoumaru stops, annoyance grating up his spine, and turns to see his mother slink out from behind a corner. Tilting his head, he steps toward her as he straightens and meets her gaze. “Am I?”

Yellow eyes narrow in the dark, and she draws closer. “Yes. Brave, dedicated, and steadfast”—worry snakes its way into her eyes—“but foolish.” She stops a foot in front of him and has to tilt her face back to see his. “Do not do this.”

“I must.”

“You want to,” she corrects.

The truth of her words is reflected on his face, and he nods once. “I want to.”

There’s a flash of something wild in her eyes for a second before it dissipates under the cool control she has commanded for centuries. “Reconsider, Sesshoumaru.”

“No.” He turns again and makes for her throne.

She follows on his heels, the rustle of the silks she hastily threw on sweeping over the cold ground, and for a moment, he closes his eyes. It has been centuries since he’s heard that sound, a relic from his childhood that had once been a comfort—reassuring.

But now it is tinged with the scent of her fear. Fear for him. Fear of loss.

Inhaling deeply, he opens his eyes, and continues on his path.

“Sesshoumaru!” There is a hint of panic in her voice, and he stops to hear her out but doesn’t turn.

“Mother?” Before he realizes it, her arms wrap around his waist from behind, and he feels her head come to rest between his shoulder blades.

“Don’t,” she whispers in the dark. Her arms tighten like she believes she can keep him there if she just holds on. “This is suicide.”

His eyes harden as he looks ahead to her open throne, the moonlight casting an eerie glow on the steps that lead to the heavens. “It is a risk I will take.” With that, he slides out of her grasp and lets his intent carry him down against her will.

She rushes to catch up with him, grabbing his sleeve just as he reaches the edge. Desperation fills her voice. “Until death, Sesshoumaru.” She ignores his glare as it darkens. “Humans promise until death for a reason.” Swallowing around a sudden rise of emotion, her eyes implore his. “They know it comes for them all, and they accept this.” One step closer to him. “You must accept this is where you part from her.”

Her face has slipped its mask and is now one of open fear and grief, and for the first time that night, his own gentles as he steps closer.

He tries not to feel guilty at the spike of hope that surges through her scent.

“Mother.” Tilting her face, he leans down and presses his lips to her cheek, lingering a moment longer than he normally would have. When he pulls away, his own mask slips back into place.

He takes a step backward.

“Sesshoumaru”—she reaches for him, her restraint gone as her voice cracks, imploring—“death marks the end of a life.”

For one crowded moment, he holds her eyes as his heels scrape the edge of the sky rungs. And then, he smiles, a flash of fang glistening in the moon’s ghostly light.

“Not for her.”

He falls.

_____________________________

_“I do not like this.”_

_Kagome laughed, hoisting her cloth of supplies to her shoulders and knotting it at her front. “It is half a day’s walk, Sesshoumaru, and I’ve done it before. Multiple times.” She took her bow and a quiver of arrows and touched his face as she walked to the door. “I’ll be fine.”_

_Unconvinced, he followed her outside. He knew he was hovering. As a matter of fact, it was only a matter of time before she became weary of his concern and called him paranoid. But something unsettling had moored deep in his gut and refused to leave._

_“There’s that face again.”_

_Sesshoumaru looked up to find her smiling at him, amusement lit softly on her lips, and he couldn’t help it. He scowled._

_She laughed again. “I really will be fine.”_

_Huffing out his exasperation, he shot an angry, considering glance at the road she was about to travel. Yes, she had traveled it before and many times without him. But something he couldn’t explain pulled at him and left him wanting to beg her not to go. “Can this not wait?”_

_For the first time since they started discussing it, her good humor began to slip. “Until when? You get back?” She shook her head, frowning. “You know it can’t.”_

_He straightened his spine and tucked his hands into his sleeves, looking down at her. “The council can wait. I will accompany you.”_

_“Oh, stop it.” Kagome reached forward and tugged his arms out of his sleeves, pulling them around her instead. “You’re not going to make the other lords wait on this treaty on my behalf.”_

_He pursed his lips. “And why not?”_

_She threw his own look back at him. “Because you’re being paranoid.”_

_There it was._

_“This One is not—”_

_Grabbing his face, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his stubborn mouth. “Yes, you are.” She kissed him again and let go. “Now cut it out. I’ll be back before you are.”_

_He gave her a look as she set her heels back on the ground and turned to leave. “You will come straight home?”_

_Walking backwards, she grinned at him. “Unless I head west to catch you first."_

_Amber eyes widened a fraction. “You will do no such thing.”_

_“Then you better get back here as soon as you can,” she called back with a wink._

_His irritation softened at her playfulness, and he surrendered a small smile. “You should expect no less.”_

_“Oh, I don’t.” Though still smiling, her eyes suddenly glistened with tears. “I’ll miss you.”_

_Sesshoumaru glared a little, despite the warmth that spread through his chest. “If your time is wasted missing me, the human village quite obviously is not in dire need of your assistance.”_

_Kagome laughed. “Crab.” She gave him one final, bright smile, and he tried to ignore the increasing sinking feeling in his gut. “I love you!”_

_When she turned around and could no longer see him, his unease broke free. Concern knit his brows as he watched her take to the road and disappear among the trees. He knew she was not incorrect in her claims. It was a path she had traveled efficiently and safely on her own time and time again. Still, his disconcertion failed to improve._

_He sighed and turned back to their home. Maybe she was right. He was getting paranoid._

_Still…_

_Sesshoumaru turned and looked down the road again, frowning._

_____________________________

It’s cold where he stands outside the cave.

The chill of the early morning air washes over him, and Sesshoumaru closes his eyes, face turned to the subtle blue of the false dawn that cracks over the horizon.

He won’t see the sunrise.

Biting air stings his cheeks pink as he breathes in, frigid winds whipping his hair about him. It’s an eerie, empty beauty—this slipping away of the night. But perhaps that is fitting.

Unbidden, his mind suddenly recalls the vibrant pinks and oranges of a setting sun. Recalls the warmth of a small, feminine hand in his. And, if he concentrates hard enough, he can still smell her scent wafting in and out of the painting in his mind.

Something sharp twists in his gut.

It’s on instinct that his hand seeks the reassurance of a once-shunned heirloom sword. Clawed fingertips brush the smooth skin of Tenseiga’s hilt, and he closes his eyes, listening.

His father’s fang thrums under his fingertips.

Sesshoumaru exhales. His breath freezes in the predawn air while relief sinks into his bones. Despite all odds and the selfishness of his mission, the sword still accepts him as its master.

Or perhaps it is Tenseiga that owns him.

“I shunned you unfairly,” he murmurs in the stillness, his hand gripping the fang’s hilt. His eyes roam the whisper of the coming day, and he swallows, committing it to memory. If he fails, it is the sight he will take with to carry him through the darkness.

A small, grateful smile breaks free of his lips. “But you have never deserted this One.”

If possible, Tenseiga hums louder, and its weight lightens under his touch.

It compels him forward.

With a final look at the horizon, Sesshoumaru turns to the mouth of the cave and leaves the world behind.

Ahead, ancient sentries lie in wait at an impossible gate. He’s not entirely foolish; he knows Gozu and Mezu will not let him pass this time, even with Heaven’s sword in his grasp. Not when his intent defies life’s authority. But he will pass, and he _will_ bring her back.

Unsheathing Tenseiga, he stares through the dark at the doorway that will decide her fate.

Their fate.

Failure is not a luxury he has, and for a moment he knows fear as the possibility of it coils through his body and reminds him that nightmares do exist. But then, he forces it aside, allowing his eyes to slide shut and remember her—remember that laughing, mocking mouth.

His resolve strengthens. _I am coming, Kagome._

Stone begins to rumble and lithic joints creak, his adversaries finally stirring to life. A warning bellows out of the darkness.

Sesshoumaru ignores it. His mask slips into place as his jaw sets, the steadfast calm he has relied on for centuries taking over. But behind it, a frightening determination lays waiting.

Death looks like the end of the story, but he refuses to allow it to be where they part.

Tenseiga flares to life.

He attacks.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for the SessKag Valentine's Big Bang 2020. Italics represent Sesshoumaru's memories.  
> Prompt: Till death do us part  
> Artist: Jenineji  
> Link to accompanying art: http://dokuga.com/gallery?func=detail&id=11487  
> Word Count: 9114
> 
> Thank you so much for reading what Jenineji and I have worked on! Please be sure to take a moment to check out her artwork for this fic. It's from one of my favorite moments: "This is where you kiss me." (fun fact: the art came first and led to the moment in the story). Thank you again for reading. And a huge shoutout and thanks for Chie and Jaf for organizing the Big Bang! <3


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